God rest his head Sunday afternoon And the wicked in me is surely the wicked in you Pray to a ghost that we've never met Time turns for a cure from the scientists for Madness, madness, of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start And Hawking will tell us no tall tales this spring Our minds hold the chaos that started everything Maybe it's fate, as the sadness takes hold Still stars through a window, will they ever know this Madness, madness, of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start There's a madness, a madness of the heart But you knew it, you knew it from the start Stare a sleepy smile into a sun beam Is this nothing more than a daydream? Colored stained glass cathedral Confess a past that won't let you go God rest your head Sunday afternoon And the wicked in me is surely coming through Pray to a ghost that I've never met Still searching for some way out of this mess It's the heart It's the heart There's a madness, a madness in the stars But you knew it, you knew it from the start